


A Light Inscrutable

by sredni_vashtar



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Adventure, F/M, General fiction, Literature, Road Trips, fan fiction, wrong place wrong time, you are worthy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2016-01-22
Packaged: 2018-04-28 00:51:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5071588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sredni_vashtar/pseuds/sredni_vashtar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After you get lost on a road trip to Vegas with your friends, you end up stranded in the middle of a small town full of gods, government agents, and strange hammers falling out of the sky. The fact that the hammer seems to be having some strange reactions to you may or may not be the least of your worries.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I finally sat down, started writing fiction, and managed to finish some discrete part of it without getting interrupted by a horrible sickening headache. In a just world, this would mean that I finally finished the chapter of my Loki story that keeps demanding rewrites, so I could finally start getting to the actiony parts of that series.
> 
> But instead, you get a new series that I'll update sporadically. Surpriiiiiise! 
> 
> About the title: I'm dreadful at titles, so I started looking through poets' pages on Wikiquote to see if anyone had a really good line to spare. Loki got one from a Russian poet; I forget who. Thor gets something from <ahref="[en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fri%C3%B…](http://www.deviantart.com/users/outgoing?https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fri%C3%B0%C3%BEj%C3%B3fs_saga_hins_fr%C5%93kna) __" >this poem</a>, as published and added to by Swedish poet Esaias Tegner:
> 
>  
> 
> "It seemed as if the air upheld alone  
> Its dome, unless supporting spirits bore it,  
> Studded with stars Odin's spangled throne,  
> A light inscrutable burned fiercely o'er it;  
> In sky-blue mantles,  
> Sat the gold-crowned gods before it."
> 
>  
> 
> ...seemed about right.  
> 
> 
>  

“You should have stayed home.”

The agent on the other side of the table hadn’t been making much sense so far, but that part? The “let’s stay home with Netflix and a bowl of cookie dough” thing? That was starting to look like a really great idea. For one thing, you would have really loved not finding out how badly three hours in a pair of handcuffs would make your arms and wrists hurt.

“(Y/N) (L/N).”

“I know what my name is, thanks,” you muttered under your breath.

Instead of responding with something snarky or asking you to speak a little louder, the agent dropped a file folder on the table and flipped it open. Papers, photos of you and the blond guy, something that had your handwriting all over it. Where had they gotten all that? Since when did you have enough going on in your life to fill a big, scary, CIA-type file?

“Solid B average,” he said, looking at something on the third page. “Assistant treasurer of your school’s bowling club--”

“Acting assistant treasurer,” you corrected him. “The guy was just studying in Hamburg for the semester. He’ll be back.”

“ _Acting_ assistant treasurer. Of course. You’ve worked a series of temp jobs, but there’s no pattern to them. No major, but it looks like you’re studying at least two languages.” Agent Whoever closed the file, then looked straight into your bloodshot (e/c) eyes. “Best cover I’ve seen in a few years.”

Cover? What the hell was he talking--

“Very subtle. But your partner doesn’t seem to understand the subtle approach. Someone will be able to figure out who trained him after we look at the footage of him attacking the perimeter guards, and then--”

“Wait. What? Him?” you heard your voice start to rise. “That guy, with the… hair? We are not partners, there’s no way--”

“Miss (L/N).”

“--he doesn’t even pay for his own--”

“All I’m saying,” the agent said over your protests, “is that you might want to start talking before we find out who sent the two of you here and what they want with the weapon.”

“Nobody sent me here!” It’s the third or fifth time you’ve said it, and it still didn’t look like anyone’s was going to believe you. Especially not this guy. The thugs that dragged you here were at least kind enough to get mad at you when you yelled and kicked and shouted that you were innocent; your interrogator just looked at you like you were a puppy that kept chewing the same piece of furniture.

“Just think about it,” he said as he stood up and started gathering pieces of your file. “Think about your future, (Y/N).”

Perfect. Your brand-new, completely unpredictable, hammer-throwing future. “How did I even get here?” you groaned, sinking back in your chair and wincing as the handcuffs pulled tight.

“I don’t know,” the agent said over his shoulder. “You tell me.”

  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally finished this chapter during a lull at work, and now I've got this up here and on DeviantArt.
> 
> For convenience's sake, one of your friends already has a stand-in name; you can put your best friend's name (or any name you like) wherever it says (BFF). 
> 
> To those of you who left kudos: you're the best, and I hope to have at least another chapter up for y'all before Christmas.

“(Y/N).”

 

You pulled your sweatshirt tightly around your head, trying to drown out your best friend’s annoyingly caffeinated voice. It’s not the best pillow you’ve ever used, but the back seat of your best friend’s Blazer makes a surprisingly comfy bed, especially with your other friend Brianna riding shotgun. Last time, she fell asleep on top of you and your pile of blankets, and you ended up pinned for hours.

 

“(Y/N)!” Something soft flew over your shoulder and hit you on the head.

 

“Ow,” you mumbled into the seat cushion. “Stop trying to murder me with your goat.”

 

“Why did you get me a stuffed goat, anyway?” (BFF) turned until she could see you over the back of the passenger seat. “I mean, I love him, but it’s kind of a random birthday present.”

 

“Seemed like the right thing at the time.” You yawned, squeezing the goat against your chest. You opened your eyes to complete darkness. Well, if you were being totally honest with yourself, you'd point out that the Blazer's headlights were still shining like little fireflies on a sugar high, but the fact that you could still see the worn-out white lines flashing past the car's wheels didn't tell you anything. Just that you were still on the road.

 

Where was Vegas, anyway? You should have started seeing neon and flashing signs the moment you hit the state line.

 

“You took the shortcut, right?”

 

“Yeah. Exit 23.”

 

“Yeah.” You tried to visualize the route you'd planned last night, but all you could remember was a hopeless tangle of numbers and lines that might have been somewhere near Nevada. “No, wait, could you pass me-”

 

You'd just turned to ask Brianna for the map, trying to figure out a way to admit that you couldn't actually remember what your neighbor said while he was bragging about his shortcut, apart from “Fremont Street” and “take a left” and “look, it’s on the map, any idiot can see it,” when you saw a streak of light in the sky. It looked like it was getting bigger. No, closer. That couldn't be right.

 

“Move, Bree.”

 

“I can't, I'm driving-”

 

“I said-”

 

The world disappeared in a low _**boom** _ and a spray of broken pavement.

 

\---

 

“...see? I'm not that terrible at driving. All I did was hit a guy.”

 

These words were followed by total silence. And probably a raised eyebrow, but you really didn’t want to open your eyes all the way and let the light outside stab its way into your already aching-

 

Wait. Light?

 

“One guy,” the same voice insisted.

 

More silence.

 

“And it was just a little.”

 

“And then you tased him.”

 

“And then you put him in the back of our car. Look at him, he's fine. He looks peaceful. He's drooling on your sweater.” A dark-haired blur popped into view into view over the edge of your cracked window. “Is anyone alive in there?”

 

Alive. Your stomach started to twist. What if they weren’t alive? What if they were seriously hurt after that crash? Why did they have to end up on Random Meteorite Road?

 

 _Because you had a shortcut, smartass._ You should have told them that you had trouble with maps, you shouldn’t have told Brianna to focus on finals while you took over the planning part of your best friend’s 21st birthday, you should have been checking the map every five minutes, shouldn’t have should have shouldn’t have

 

There was a sudden jingle of shattered glass from the front seat, and then a groan. “I think I sat on my iPod,” (BFF)'s voice said ruefully.

 

You sighed and settled back in your ruined seat. Things were going to be OK. At least until you had to admit that you weren't quite sure what kind of trouble you’d found for your friends, but if your rescuers kept talking, maybe you could keep those questions away until morning.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, welcome to this thing that I apparently update about once a month! Seriously, I might be able to have a new chapter up more quickly if I can find the rest of what I've written recently in my horrifyingly disorganized notebooks, but I keep finding ancient homework from my class on the Romans instead, so... we'll see.

You weren’t sure whether the first thing you said to Jane Foster was “I’m sorry,” “Where are we,” or “Oh god, oh god, the car’s on fire, isn’t it,” but it definitely looked like you’d said something that had both the brunette that had helped you climb out of the Blazer and the one who had just finished introducing herself looking worried.

 

“Can you tell me how many fingers I’m holding up?”

 

Jane’s hand was right in front of your face, but your head was still buzzing with too much hey-I-just-almost-died energy to focus on it, chasing around fuzzy visions of maps and meteorites and streaks of light flying out of the sky, not strangely difficult concepts like one and two and oh, look, a hangnail, and there’s a spot of something blue on her thumb-

 

“Hey. Hey, stay with me. How many fingers?”

 

“...Blue?” You tried to point at her thumb, but the sudden motion made your head spin. Right. Hyperventilating. Probably a good idea to stop doing that now that random space objects have stopped falling on your head.  

 

“Oh, god.”

 

“Jane, we don’t even know if she speaks English,” your other rescuer interrupted. “She was talking in German or Swahili or whatever when we pulled her out of-”

 

“Swahili? Seriously, Darcy?”

 

“Well, no, it’s obviously proto-Germanic, but my last class with Gellman was like a year ago, I don’t even-”

 

“I meant two,” you said over Darcy’s monologue, loudly enough that it made every bone in your head hurt. “Two. And that other finger that she's holding up next to them. I’m fine.” You glanced over at Brianna and [BFF], who looked shaky but unhurt as they talked to the man in Jane and Darcy’s car. “I’m fine. Everything’s great.”

 

Jane turned to Darcy. “She’s in shock.”

 

“She can hear you,” you said to the corner of Jane’s head. That seemed like kind of a rude thing to snap at someone who had just saved you from a smashed-up car, so you added, “But maybe we should get everyone else to the hospital. Just to get checked out. And, you know, call the insurance people and all.”

 

“What did you hit, anyway?” Darcy asked, edging toward the caved-in front of your best friend’s car. “There isn’t anything out here for five miles. Except for armadillos. And the body in Jane’s trunk.”

 

“He’s not dead! He’ll be fine.” Jane bit her lip. “Probably.”

 

There was no answer from Darcy, who had reached the front of the car.

 

“Do you think that thing with the taser did something? I mean, other than knocking him out. Maybe I should check his pulse or-”

 

“Jane.” You hadn’t know Darcy for more than five minutes, but you were already sure it wasn’t normal for her to sound that serious.

 

“What? What’s so important over…” Jane trailed off as she came closer to the car’s grille. “Oh.”

 

There wasn’t much else you could add to Jane’s “Oh,” or the “ _Shit._ ” that Darcy contributed a few seconds later. Something had punched a hole through the peeling spot of paint in the middle of the Blazer’s hood, and all you could see inside was a tangle of twisted plastic hoses and broken metal edges and… maybe that was a pipe? It looked like it was covered in leather, and it had a loop at the end, but maybe that was what some really important part of the engine was supposed to look like.

 

“What is that?” Darcy finally asked, reaching out to poke at the leathery-looking loop.

 

All right, maybe it wasn’t part of the engine. You took a step forward, leaning past Darcy’s head to stare at the maybe leather/maybe engine/maybe mysterious flying thing a little more closely. It hadn’t burned Darcy, and you wanted to see what your meteorite looked like- maybe there was enough there to sell on eBay once you got home, so you could help [BFF] pay for a new car. Maybe she’d forgive you for all that confusion with the map, if you could just do something about the car.

 

“I don’t know,” Jane answered somewhere as you wrapped your hand around the mysterious thing and pulled it out of the engine block, “but I wouldn’t touch-”

 

A bolt of lightning cracked the clear night sky above your head in half, landing on the metal end of the… thing you’d taken out of the car. Funny, you’d always thought that being struck by lightning would feel more like that time you accidentally shocked yourself while building circuits in science class, where there was a half-blink of pain before everything in your body stopped for a second, including the air in your lungs. This felt more like you were taller, stronger, more awake than you could have been after drinking your own body weight in coffee, and-

 

“ _ **[Y/N]!**_ ” Someone was screaming. The terror in [BFF’s] voice was enough to make you drop the thing- hammer, your brain filled in as you got your first clear look at what you’d pulled out of the car, it was a short, heavy-looking hammer, even if it had felt lighter than most of your textbooks when you’d been waving it around in the air- on the ground in front of your bare feet.

 

“So,” you blurted out quickly, trying to fill the sudden silence. “You were saying something about being in shock?”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sadly, I can attest that this is what getting shocked by DC electricity actually feels like. Hooray for high school science and getting repeated accidental shocks!
> 
> Also also: please let me know if there are any typos, I didn't proofread this very well. :P


End file.
